A very good stay in Paris

Every visit has its charms. This one is full of sweet and salty discoveries and just enough work checked off to feel as though I've earned them.

Bonjour! Bonjour!

Every time we arrive in Paris, I can never be sure what kind of stay it’s going to be. When we push the door open to our apartment, there’s always a little blip of joy — I love our little place and I love being here. Then there’s the “walk-through”: a quick check that the heat is coming up, the water is hot, the windows haven’t leaked or blown open — they’re the size of doors and must be closed with a force that needs to be summoned — and that the plants haven’t died. That they survive is a miracle. The indoor violets are thriving on neglect and the outdoor geraniums are scraggly but still blooming. They made it through the snow, torrential downpours and the tempest-type winds that whip across our top-floor balconies — I think they’ll revel in the spring sun.

Every trip has a subplot. One time it was moths and the holes in our sweaters, scarves, gloves and even the cashmere-covered hot water bottle that Michael had bought for me more than 20 years ago, when the Paris apartment we lived in had radiators with whims. During another stay, it was the washing machine — we had to buy a new one, which is its own kind of adventure…and hell. The salesman forgot to note that the elevator was small (read: too small to hold the machine) and the seven-flight staircase up to our apartment is of the winding variety. And more than once — maybe more than 20 times! — it was the Wi-Fi, pronounced wee-fee in French, which seems so adorable, like the name of a child’s imaginary pet. But in reality, it’s a mess and needs more visits to the SFR office (think Comcast) than my plants need watering — it feels like a part-time job.

Those of you who subscribe to David Lebovitz’s newsletter will already have read about so many of the things that can go topsy-turvy in a dream life in Paris. He’s a master at finding the quirks in the culture and just as good at finding the humor.

This trip has turned out to be about just what it was meant to be about: friends, food, explorations, discovery and work.

I always find it hard to settle down to my work in Paris — even after 25 years of being a part-time Parisian, the city is a siren’s song to put everything aside and just wander. But this time I was able to find a bit of balance, to do what I always tell myself I’ll do: I worked from early in the morning until early afternoon; gallivanted until apéro time; had dinner at home or with friends; and went to bed happy. Phew! I’m a slow learner, but I just might nail this … eventually.

I’m working on a big project, but like a little kid with a treasure, I’ve been holding it close. Partly because I’m superstitious — I want to make sure it’s really real before I fling it out into the world. Also, it’s delicious to have something that’s all yours. Well, this project’s not completely mine — I’ve got two amazing people at my side.

I’m almost ready to tell you about it. And you’ll be the first to know.

For now, here’s a look at a few of the many things that have enchanted me this month. I’ve still got a couple more weeks here, so if there’s something you think I shouldn’t miss, you know I’d love to hear.

PS: This is all about Paris, but not in Paris: My friend, Jane Bertch, the extraordinary woman who co-founded everyone’s favorite cooking school in Paris, La Cuisine Paris, will be in New York City to talk about her debut memoir, The French Ingredient. (It pubs April 9 and is available for pre-order from Amazon and Bookshop.org.)

And I’m the person lucky enough to be in conversation with her. We’ll be at the Rizzoli Bookstore on April 18 (you can buy the book then and Jane will sign it — bonus!). It would make Jane and me so happy to see you. Here’s the link for tickets.

The Sweet Stuff

I’m on my usual sweet (or three)-a-day schedule and here are some of the sweets — and sweet people — that have made me happiest.

Pontochoux Café

I was knocked out by the simple-looking pastries on the counter at Pontochoux Café and fell in love with chef Akira Takahashi’s version of a cannelé as well as his black sesame madeleine. I can’t wait to go back to taste his castella and his parfait of the day.

Café du Clown

Closer to home, I love everything about Café du Clown in the Marché Saint Germain. Their coffee, of course, but also their very dark madeleines — brown butter and honey — and their tiny, but flavor-packed kouign-aman.

Poilâne

And look at these pretty sablés! They were a gift from Apollonia Poilâne — they’re new on the shelves at Poilâne — and the package includes three classic Punitions (butter cookies), three sablés made with matcha and three made with roasted rice tea. All shaped like langues de chat (cat tongues).

Carette

Making a detour through the beautiful Place des Vosges on a sunny day, I jumped into Carette for my two favorite treats from them: the elephantine palmier (the crunch is astounding, even deafening) and the baguette-like apple turnover. Classics.

Rayonnance

As soon as I tasted the amazing cookies from Rayonnance, I headed over to the shop. I wanted to see what else they made, but I really wanted to meet Yuki and Lumi. I’m betting you won’t be surprised to learn that they’re as lovely as their pastries are beautiful and delicious. I bought a bunch of things that day and loved them all, but I was intrigued by their Tarte Tatin Cake. I wish I’d taken a better picture, but friends and I dove into it before I grabbed my camera.

Rayonnance

As we often do, Michael and I shared the crème caramel at Bistrot Paul Bert and, as always, it was great. As was the crumble from Rigmarole on Pizzamarole night and the beautiful black sesame dessert at Akabeko.

Paul Bert / Rigmarole / Akabeko

And I did a little baking of my own in my pint-size kitchen:

Chez moi

The Salty Side

And because even I don’t live on dessert only, here are a few splendid savory dishes I loved over the past couple of weeks.

Juveniles

The prettiest soup I’ve ever seen — cauliflower velouté with mussels and kale tempura — from Juveniles. Also scrumptious potimarron (kuri squash) ravioli.

Akira Sugiura / La Cave Paul-Bert

After eating just about everything on Akira Sugiura’s menu at La Cave Paul-Bert, I was ready to do it all over again. A little Japanese. A little Italian. A lot delicious. Especially the udon cacio e pepe and the croquette.

Freddy's Wine Bar

Ceviche based on buttermilk and a plate of carrots and mackerel (yes, mackerel!) at Freddy’s Wine Bar. I love Freddy’s, but I always wish I were there with a big crowd of people, the kind who are happy to taste and pass the plates — it’s easy to want everything.

Pizzamarole

Here’s the chanterelle pizza from Pizzamarole, Dan Pear’s few-nights-a-week pop-up at Rigmarole. Dan’s crust is a marvel. I’ve never had another like it and trust me, I’ve searched.

Localino

And the chubby artichoke from Localino. It’s soft and luscious and filled with chunklets of bread, capers and anchovies, braised with a little wine and finished with olive oil. It was so good that I bought a big artichoke to try to make something similar.

Having Nothing To Do With Food

Museum of Decorative Arts

If you are in Paris before April 29, you must, must, must see the Iris Van Herpen exhibit, Sculpting the Senses, at the Museum of Decorative Arts. Yes, it’s a fashion exhibit, but it is so very much more. The dresses are works of genius, but so is everything that the composers, musicians, sculptors, videographers, glass blowers, paper artists, naturalists and even a deep-sea diver do in collaboration with the couturier (the youngest to ever be named a member of the strictly controlled and impossible to crack world of Paris haute couture). It is a triumph of ingenuity, and it will make your spirit soar.

Having Nothing To Do With Paris or Food

Sweet updates from the sweets back in New York.

📚 You can find more recipes in my latest book Baking with Dorie.

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